So you would think they, in turn, would learn to use a Chicago word properly.

That word is "clout," and it has been part of the City Hall vocabulary for years.

A while back, a mascara-smeared editor at Vogue magazine wrote an item about it--getting the Chicago meaning thoroughly goofed up--and "clout" was snatched up in New York and Washington and other provinces.

Soon it came tripping off the lips of TV commentators, and was being tossed knowledgeably about the Washington Press Club. And most of the time the meaning was confused.

Now, even someone of the stature of David S. Broder, the syndicated columnist, has seized upon the word. And like the others, he uses it without knowing what it means.

But worst of all, Broder's brazen misuse of "clout" appeared in a Chicago paper.

In Wednesday's, Broder was writing about the political potential of U.S. Attorney James R. Thompson.

In trying to explain Thompson's sudden prominence, Broder wrote:

". . . His sudden fame and reputation as the most feared wielder of that special Chicago commodity called 'clout' rests on his work in the field of public corruption."

And a little further down, he says:

"What makes even skeptical politicians here take Thompson seriously as a threat to Daley's control of Chicago is the reputation for 'clout' he has developed."

No, no, no--NO!

If what Thompson has is "clout," then charisma is some kind of Spanish soup.

Thompson, if anything, has been a complete enemy of clout.

What Thompson has is law enforcement power. And what "clout" is in Chicago is political influence, as exercised through patronage, fixing, money, favors, and other traditional City Hall methods.

The easiest way to explain clout is through examples of the way it might be used in conversation.

"Nah, I don't need a building permit--I got clout in City Hall."

"Hey, Charlie, I see you made foreman. Who's clouting for you?"

"Lady, just tell your kid not to spit on the floor during the trial and he'll get probation. I talked to my clout and he talked to the judge."

"My tax bill this year is $1.50. Not bad for a three-flat, huh? I got clout in the assessor's office.

"Ever since my clout died, they've been making me work a full eight hours. I've never worked an eight-hour week before."

"My clout sent a letter to the mayor recommending me for a judgeship. Maybe I'll enroll in law school."

Get the idea? Clout is used to circumvent the law, not to enforce it. It is used to bend rules, not follow them.

That is why Thompson can be considered as anti-clout.

In the racetrack scandal, Otto Kerner and Ted Isaacs were caught clouting for the racetrack industry. Eddie Barrett was caught clouting for the vote-machine company that gave him money. In most of the trials of public officials Thompson has conducted, their clout is what got the politicians in trouble.

I hope this makes everything clear for Broder and the local copy editors who permitted this shocking mistake to slip into their paper. We must try to preserve the purity of Chicagoese and defend against efforts to cheapen one of the world's most beautiful languages.

If we don't, soon people won't understand what a simple Chicago sentence, such as this, means:

"So this beef comes in from a goo-goo that I asked him to make the drop, but just when it looked like I was gonna be vised, my Chinaman clouted for me downtown and it was all squared."

Which, in a foreign language, would mean: A complaint was made by a do-gooder that I solicited a bribe from him, but just when it appeared that I would be fired, my sponsor intervened in my behalf, and the complaint was suppressed in City Hall.

Or as a pious payroller might say: The mayor is my clout; I shall not want.

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So long, Chicago

This collection of Mike Royko's writing is headlined "So long, Chicago" because that was the headline on the last edition of Royko's beloved Chicago Daily News. The Daily News--the people who worked there and those who played for its renowned 16-inch softball team that Royko managed and pitched for--was his extended family. When the paper ceased publication on March 4, 1978, it was one of the saddest days in Royko's 40-plus years as a newsman and left a void he was never able to fill.